Ship It Like FedEx
by TheDoritoOverlord
Summary: Back in the very beginning, Gorillaz wasn't a band yet. They hadn't picked out their name, they'd just kicked Paula out, and they needed a guitarist. They had just placed an ad in the paper, when there was a knock at the door. (Crossposted on AO3.)


The three soon-to-be band members stood silently, gathered around the tiny Japanese girl, who still held her guitar as she stood beside her massive FedEx crate. The utterly dumbfounded trio's shoulders and hair were now lightly sprinkled with dust from the ceiling, which had crumbled when the girl had delivered a direct kick to the ancient plaster. It was the dark eyed frontman who spoke first.

"Noodle?" Wussat's sp'sed to mean?"

2D turned to the other men, looking from the child, to Murdoc and Russel, then back again. "When did we order a little girl?"

"We didn't, 'D.." responded Russel patiently.

"Well 'ow did-" 2D suddenly launched into a hundred piercing but very legitimate questions about the current situation. This cacophony was aided, unfortunately, by the girl, who babbled in Japanese, before responding to the frontman with another "NOODLE!"

Russel tried his best to mediate between the two, despite the fact that one was caught up in his bizarre conspiracy theories about the postal service, and the other, to his knowledge, didn't understand a word he was saying. Unfortunately, the drummer wasn't proving very effective, until..

"SHUT UP!" came the gravelly voice of Murdoc, who, strangely, hadn't said a word prior. The others turned to him, even the child, and they were surprised to see that he was grinning.

"But who- " 2D was cut off yet again, as Murdoc turned, still smiling.

"Who the 'ell cares? Innit obvious? She's our guitarist!" growled the satanic bassist.

"B-but we've only just placed the ad-" The universe didn't seem to want 2D to speak today. Or, perhaps, Murdoc's aim with an empty rum bottle was getting better.

"Ow!"

As the frontman rubbed his sore head, Russel curled his hands into fists, silently expressing his disapproval. Sighing, he knelt in front of the small girl. She peered up at him, dark eyes wide.

"You don't speak English, then, I'm guessing?" he rumbled.

She tilted her head to the side. "Noodle."

"Yeah, okay." He scratched the back of his head. This was going to make things a bit harder. Russel stood up and turned to the large box. Peering inside, he saw nothing but a snapped guitar string and some bits of packaging. No note, no clue as to who the young girl was.

He turned around to see 2D bending over the child, reaching out a hand to twang one of the antennas on her radio helmet. "Tomare!" squawked the girl, though upon closer inspection, she actually seemed to be smiling.

2D suddenly stood up and turned to Russel and Murdoc, a crooked smile crossing his face.

"Oh, can we keep 'er, oh, please?" he pleaded in his high pitched cockney screech, looking expectantly between them.

Despite not knowing what they were talking about, the little girl earnestly copied the blue haired vocalist's facial expression.

"Bleedin' children, the both of 'em…" muttered Murdoc.

"Well, we're not gonna kick her out of Kong, 'D, but we don't know anything about where she came from, or what the hell she's doin' here."

Ignoring Murdoc's growl of "She's our guitarist, you sods!" Russel turned back toward the girl, kneeling again. He looked her right in the eyes, though his lack of pupils made it a bit hard to tell. Behind him, 2D leaned over his shoulder, watching the proceedings.

"Alright," Russel said, speaking as softly and slowly as he could, "What's your name then?"

As he said this, he gestured toward her, so as to indicate "you". He hoped she'd understand. She looked back at him, quiet for a moment, before she opened her mouth again.

"Noodle."

"Damn." muttered the drummer, standing up.

"Well then," piped up 2D, "Innit obvious? 'Er name really is Noodle, then! Like, uh, those Japanese card monsters or whatever. Only says 'er name."

"Nah," supplied Murdoc, a delightfully evil smile on his face, "Russ is just shit at explaining things. You'd think Del would have some insight on the subject, though."

If there had not been a child present in the room, Russel probably would have broken the bassist's nose yet again, which would fare poorly for the still raw cartilage. Indeed, it had only recently healed after the… Paula incident.

As it was, there was no convincing 2D otherwise at this point, so Russel gave a little smile and said, "Alright, Noodle it is then."

The girl, newly and appropriately christened, smiled back.

Behind him, Murdoc cackled softly to himself.

"Oh, this is it, I can feel it. We're goin' to the bleedin top, we are. Us, Gorillaz!"

"Wot? _Gorillaz_? Wussat sp'sed to be?"

"It's our name, you wanker!" growled the satanist. "Now we've got a new guitarist, it's official! We've got to start our recording, obviously, with a few of my songs-"

Russel intervened. "Not yet. It's almost six thirty, and I know _you_ can live off rum, but 'D and I eat like people, and I'm sure children do too."

"Yeah! I think I read a book once, for parents or summat like that- said you're sp'sed t-to give 'em… Nutrients or sumthin'. Yeah."

"Right," agreed Russel, "But I highly doubt we've got anything in. We oughta call someone for delivery. Someone who's willing to deliver to this hellhole, more specifically."

The drummer and the frontman both turned to the girl, who eyed them both and said something neither of them could understand, though she seemed happy enough. Behind them, Murdoc had been pouting about not _recording that exact moment,_ but had grinned to himself when their studio was accurately referred to as a "hellhole."

"Kay then," murmured the drummer, "D, you call that one Italian place that's always desperate for business. I'll take the kid- er, Noodle."

Leaning over, he held one hand out to the small child. It was strange for him, as he didn't have much experience with kids. Nevertheless, she took it, smiling at him. He led her to the kitchen, which, surprisingly, wasn't _too_ bad in terms of grossness.

Despite this display of affection, Murdoc had a feeling this was the start of something big.


End file.
